


fall from grace

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Senga didn’t know what he wanted until it fell right in front of him.





	fall from grace

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written with luna_truths for trope bingo (winged fic).

Tamamori takes his first step on earth and manages to step on the edge of his left wing, landing on his face with a loud yelp and an arm flail. He groans softly and kind of hopes that nobody saw him.

“Are you okay? That fall looked like it really hurt.” He blinks a few times before looking up into the soft brown eyes peering down at him curiously. “Do you need help getting up?”

“Uh,” he says, but there’s a hand already extended towards him and he gratefully takes it; after that disastrous first attempt at walking, he’s not entirely confident of his own ability to stand on his own. “I’m looking for Senga Kento-san?”

“You found him,” the young man says, smiling down at him, then up at him as he straightens his limbs. “Wow, you’re tall.”

“Yeah,” Tamamori says, trying to smooth down what he’s sure are infinite spikes in his hair from that crash landing. “Not quite used to it yet.”

If Senga thinks that’s something weird to say, he doesn’t let it show on his face, his concern for Tamamori winning over. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to a hospital or something..?”

Tamamori looks at Senga curiously. “Hospital?”

Senga remains silent for a few moments, just watching Tamamori and waiting to see if he says anything else, and when he doesn’t Senga just coughs. “You’re really not from around here, are you?”

“Not at all,” Tamamori answers, wings fluttering behind him when the wind blows.

Tamamori is still staring at Senga; he knows that Senga sees them because Senga’s eyes keep flicking over to his shoulders. He’s the only one who _should_ be able to see them, anyway. Senga keeps quiet though, but then he’s grinning at Tamamori. Tamamori isn’t sure what Senga’s even grinning at, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling in return. It’s the friendly thing to do after all.

“Why were you looking for me?” Senga asks, his gaze lingering on Tamamori’s shoulder this time. “I think we’re in the way. We should go inside. Are you okay to walk this time?”

Tamamori snorts and takes a big step forward, fully intent on proving to Senga that he was capable of walking at least, even if he still wasn’t used to these long limbs that didn’t seem to want to go the direction he told them to. He stumbles once or twice, but catches his balance almost immediately. Senga stays close to him anyway, but then they’re going into a building and Tamamori can’t help but pause to stare at himself as they pass by a mirror on the wall.

It’s the first time he’s ever been able to actually see what he truly looks like—well, what he’d look like if he were actually human. It feels incredibly vain to even think it, but he’s _gorgeous_. Tall, like Senga had observed already, and slim with big eyes and a gentle face. He resists the urge to reach up and touch his own cheeks, curious to see if his skin is as soft as it looks, and belatedly realizes Senga’s eyeing him in a mixture of amusement and confusion.

“Who _are_ you?” Senga asks slowly, looking like he wants to come closer and bolt at the same time.

“My name is Tamamori Yuuta,” Tamamori replies, because he knows that much. “I’m an angel.”

Senga blinks. “Angel?”

“Yeah, um.” Tamamori looks from side to side, sighing in relief when he finds nobody else around. “It’s my first time doing this, sorry.”

“Your first time doing _what_?” Senga asks, then his eyes widen. “Are you a _prostitute_?”

Tamamori tilts his head to the side. “What’s a prostitute?”

“What’s a…” Senga trails off; meanwhile, Tamamori looks entirely unfazed as Senga’s eyes widen. “Why else would you just walk up to me and fall like that? That’s how you pickup your customers, right?”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Tamamori flicks his eyes back to his reflection in the mirror. “Do I look like a prostitute to you?”

Senga nods almost immediately. “I mean…I haven’t ever really _met_ a prostitute, but you’re good looking enough to be one and the way you act is kind of…” Senga pauses when he realizes they’re still standing in the middle of the main room where anyone nearby could hear them. “Come with me?”

Tamamori shrugs and just follows Senga towards some shiny metal doors. He jumps back when they open after Senga presses one of the buttons. “What is this?” he asks and very cautiously steps inside with Senga.

“You’ve seriously never seen an elevator? This has got to be some kind of joke.” Senga sighs and presses another button. “What is going on here?”

The elevator lurches beneath his feet and Tamamori jumps again, his arms shooting out to grab onto the railing inside. His eyes are wide with fear, and that’s all it takes before Senga’s laughing at him. He seems to take pity on Tamamori and drop the questions for now, at least until they’re in Senga’s small apartment and Senga’s serving him tea.

“So…angel, huh?” Senga asks, like it’s a casual conversation, and Tamamori nods. “Did you fall from heaven because you were bad or something?”

Tamamori shakes his head fiercely. “Oh, no. They would have taken my wings for that.”

“Wings…” Senga trails off, looking to each of Tamamori’s sides. “So they are really there. I thought I was just seeing things.”

Tamamori flaps them for effect. They’re not that big, him being a brand new angel and all, but there are enough of them to overhang the arms of the chair he’s sitting on. They tingle a little as Senga stares at them, hard enough to have him sheepishly pull them in. “I’m not really accustomed to them yet,” he explains.

“You’re not accustomed to much, it seems.” Senga hides a smile as he takes a sip of tea, seeming to digest all of this information while he drinks. “I guess you were told to come down here for me?”

“Yes.” Tamamori thinks about the quick briefing he’d gotten before being shoved off to earth and frowns. “I don’t know very much, though. Just that I’m supposed to watch over you.”

Senga simply nods like that was the only explanation he needs. He doesn’t press Tamamori for anything else and they sit there in a comfortable silence. “What’s it like?” Senga asks after a few more moments had passed, curiosity finally getting the better of him.

“Huh?”

“What’s it like, where you’re from, I mean,” Senga says, pointing to the ceiling for effect.

Tamamori actually looks up to where Senga’s pointing before his question sinks in. He hums softly. “It’s wonderful, really.” Senga just watches him, waiting for more information. “It’s…everyone is friendly and wings come in different colors depending on the person they belong to.”

“Yours are completely white though,” Senga murmurs. Tamamori notices that Senga’s fingers twitch at his sides, and his eyes are on Tamamori’s wings watching closely as his wings flutter behind him.

“I told you I recently got mine. The colors don’t typically come in until you’ve done a few things to earn them.” Tamamori nods, wings flapping just slightly.

“So will you get your color once you’ve helped me?” Senga is still watching him—well, watching his wings as they move ever so slightly.

“That’s, I’m not sure.” Tamamori’s voice is soft and now he’s looking down at the floor. “You’re the first assignment I’ve ever had. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Oh.” Senga leans closer, peering at the wings. “Can I touch them?”

“I…guess?” Tamamori cringes, his feathers literally ruffling in instinct. “I don’t even touch them.”

Senga blinks as he lifts his hand, slowly bringing a single finger to stroke one of the feathers. The resulting feeling is so forceful that it hits Tamamori before he can identify it, a quick jolt of electricity surging through him that is in no way unpleasant.

“Did that hurt?” Senga asks, and Tamamori notices he’d jumped clear across the room from Tamamori’s reaction. “Your face is red.”

Tamamori’s wings flap on their own and he has to concentrate to calm them down, tucking them behind him before leaning back and folding his arms. “That felt weird.”

“They’re probably sensitive,” Senga comments. “Since they’re new and all.”

That makes sense enough to Tamamori, who looks around at the barely decorated apartment before settling his eyes on Senga. “So what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Senga asks.

“Yeah, well.” Tamamori clears his throat. “We usually only get assigned to mortals who need us, so. Are you in trouble or something?”

“I don’t think I am.” Senga has to think for a few long moments and then shakes his head. “I’m definitely not in trouble.” Tamamori huffs out of irritation, which makes Senga frown. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why you’re here because I’m completely fine.”

“I’m here for some reason and all I know is that it involves _you_ ,” Tamamori says clearly. “I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case. That’s not how these things work.”

“Well, I can’t really help you then,” Senga replies, watching Tamamori’s face for any type of reaction. “Maybe they got mixed up and sent you to the wrong person.”

Tamamori’s wings flutter behind him, feathers ruffled up in anger. “They don’t make mistakes. They aren’t that careless.”

“So you’d rather just assume there’s something wrong with me?” Senga’s voice sounds hurt, which causes Tamamori’s chest to ache, and it’s such a new feeling that he reaches up to press his palm where the pain is. “That’s not a very angel-like thing to say, you know. Accusing your charge of having something wrong with them.”

“That’s…” Tamamori starts, but his chest aches again when Senga looks at him, dark eyes full of sadness and Tamamori has this urge to take that sadness away somehow. “Sorry,” he says instead, the ache changing to a dull throb when Senga smiles a little bit.

“Maybe…” Senga says slowly, looking like it’s something really hard for him to say, and Tamamori doesn’t rush him. “I mean, I don’t have any friends here. My family lives far away. I moved out here to open a dance studio, and business is really good, but…that’s it. I don’t really have anyone…”

It clicks in Tamamori’s mind before Senga’s done talking, but he waits to see if Senga will say anything else. Then he grins widely, because if there’s one thing he’s confident about, it’s his companionship. “Looks like I’m here to be your friend then.”

Senga glances up suddenly, like he’d been startled, but his face warms up as he sees Tamamori’s gentle expression. “Well, okay.”

Once that’s sorted out, the atmosphere between them is much more comfortable. Senga gives Tamamori the very quick tour of his apartment and then a longer one for the neighborhood, showing him all of his favorite places to hang out. Alone, Tamamori notes. Senga’s always alone.

They pass the small building where the dance studio is, and Tamamori feels that ache in his chest again when Senga’s face lights up. He’s so proud of his business, his dream, speaking of his students like they’re his children, his employees like they’re his best friends.

Senga’s friendly enough, always smiling and cheerful. Tamamori watches as Senga greets everyone they walk by and suddenly he finds himself wondering _why_ Senga’s always alone. They continue the walk in silence, Senga only speaking when he has to show Tamamori something.

“Hey,” Tamamori catches Senga’s attention and smiles at him so that Senga isn’t worried. “Can I ask you something personal?” Senga pauses in his steps for a moment but then he’s moving again, nodding towards Tamamori and that’s all the consent he needs. “Why don’t you have any friends? You seem friendly enough to me.”

“Oh, well,” Senga begins, slowing a bit as they walk. “It’s not that I’m unfriendly. I’m just…I don’t know how to explain it.” Senga whines a little and the sound makes that pain in Tamamori’s chest come back.

“Try,” Tamamori urges. If he doesn’t know what the true cause of the problem is, he can’t help Senga. “I don’t want you to feel upset or pressured, but I need to understand you more and I think this is the best way to start.”

“Let’s get back to my studio first.” Senga doesn’t wait for Tamamori to really answer and then Tamamori has to actually walk faster to keep up with Senga.

“So,” Tamamori says the moment they’re back in Senga’s studio and the door to an empty room is closed behind them.

He watches Senga shift uncomfortably on his feet for a few moments, and Tamamori moves to take a step towards him, but then Senga is looking up at him and his expression is so unreadable that it makes Tamamori uncomfortable enough to stay in his place.

“Do you really think you can help if I tell you?” Senga asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Can you really make the loneliness go away?”

Senga’s eyes are so sad looking that Tamamori finds himself closing the distance between them in three long strides. He pulls Senga close to him almost immediately, momentarily settling the ache in his chest.

Then Senga wraps his arms around Tamamori’s back, both hands grazing the tips of his wings and Tamamori’s knees buckle from the sensation, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Luckily Senga has a tight enough grip on him, but that just means he jumps back like Tamamori had burned him, leaving Tamamori to crumple to the floor for the second time that day.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” Senga gasps, shaking his head. He brings his hands to his face, eyes wide like Tamamori was a ghost instead of an angel, and steps back until he’s up against the wall.

“You didn’t do anything,” Tamamori rushes to say, tripping over his too-long legs to stand up and approach Senga. “My wings must be defective or something. It’s fine, come here.”

He opens his arms invitingly, but Senga just cowers against the wall, staring at the floor. “I like boys,” he mumbles.

Tamamori blinks. “And? That should make you want to hug me more.”

Slowly Senga turns to look up at him, appearing much younger than his twenty-two years as he stares at Tamamori like someone who only remembers the past couple days has all the answers. “It’s really okay? I’ve never told anyone before.”

“Maybe you should have,” Tamamori prods gently, enveloping the other man in his arms as he finally steps toward him. Once Senga’s pressed against him, his wings wrap around them too.

Tamamori can’t stop the quiet groan as Senga’s fingertips press against one of his wings again, his entire body shuddering this time. “Sorry, they’re just really soft,” Senga murmurs, but he doesn’t make an effort to stop touching them.

“It’s okay,” Tamamori gasps, leaning more against Senga as those fingers continue to move slowly against his wings, seeming to touch every feather they can reach.

“Does it hurt?” Senga asks, and Tamamori shakes his head. “You keep jumping.”

“It feels—” Tamamori starts, but his breath is stolen from him as Senga drags all of his fingers down the wing. “ _Ah_.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Senga’s voice is deeper somehow, making Tamamori shiver just as much as the touches.

“No,” Tamamori answers, huffing as he struggles to understand what’s happening to him. “I just feel all of these things and there’s, like, no release.”

Senga’s hands pause, and Tamamori frowns as he looks up to find Senga gaping at him. “Does it turn you on?!” Senga asks incredulously.

“Is that what this is?” Tamamori replies, feeling a little relieved. “I thought I was getting sick or something.”

“Wow,” Senga says, and Tamamori sighs as he starts moving both of his hands again. “Your face is bright pink.”

“Feels good,” Tamamori breathes out, recognizing the pleasure for what it is now that they’ve uncovered it.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Tamamori’s eyes fly open, just in time to see Senga biting his lip like he wanted to take back what he just said. “Do you really think so?”

Senga’s face relaxes as he leans closer. “I really think I want to kiss you.”

“Do it,” Tamamori replies, and now his lips are tingling as Senga pulls him close and presses their mouths together.

It feels strange, but pleasantly so, Senga’s lips warm and soft against his. Tamamori prides himself on how he twitches just slightly when Senga’s fingers slide across his jaw, down to his throat and back up again. Tamamori can feel Senga’s heartbeat against his chest from where they’re pressed so close together. He isn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands, so he just mimics what Senga’s been doing. Tamamori starts with sliding fingers into Senga’s hair at the exact moment Senga licks his way into his mouth, his tongue instinctively curling against Senga’s own and he shudders again when Senga whines softly.

When the kiss breaks, Senga’s face is as red as Tamamori’s feels. His wings are ruffled but at least this time he knows why. Senga’s staring at him again with eyes so dark, much darker than usual and Tamamori can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up the longer Senga’s eyes are on him. He’d very much like to kiss Senga again, maybe touch him too.

“Can I touch you?” Senga whispers, seeming to read Tamamori’s mind. Tamamori can see Senga’s hands twitching every few seconds.

“You were already touching me,” Tamamori replies, pulling his hands away from Senga’s face to drop down to his knee. He slowly runs the tips of his fingers against the fabric of Senga’s jeans.

“More than just your wings,” Senga clarifies, shifting just that much closer to Tamamori. “Please?”

Tamamori’s nodding so fast that he hits his head against Senga’s head in the process. Senga wraps his arms around Tamamori’s neck and laughs at him. Senga’s lips are on his again, just as soft as before only this time Tamamori’s leaning more into it. He gasps at the first touch of fingers against skin; Senga’s fingers are warm and gentle as they trail across his abdomen and against his ribcage. Tamamori is the one who breaks the kiss this time, pulling away from Senga long enough to tug at his shirt until he could successfully get it off and he smiles as he drops it onto the floor.

Tamamori’s eyes flutter shut the moment Senga’s hands are on him again, moving gently against any bit of skin he can reach and pressing his lips against Tamamori’s throat. Tamamori moans quietly this time when Senga moves his entire palm against his wing, his body rocking forward into any kind of touch he can get. Senga shifts them both around a bit until he’s settled comfortably in Tamamori’s lap, his hands slipping under Senga’s shirt, thumbs pressing into his hips as Senga’s lips make contact with his throat again.

Tamamori whines at Senga, wanting to feel Senga’s skin beneath his fingertips too. Senga chuckles, pulling back and then tugging his shirt up and dropping it off near Tamamori’s on the floor. Senga smiles at him, and Tamamori notes that it’s a little shy this time which makes Tamamori’s chest constrict at the sight, but at least it doesn’t hurt him. Tamamori wraps an arm around Senga’s waist, palm pressed against his back as he brings their mouths together once more. This time he’s the one to slip his tongue into Senga’s mouth, deepening the kiss as much as Senga will let him.

Tamamori can’t stop kissing Senga, or from holding him even closer to himself. Senga doesn’t seem to have any objections, sliding his hands across Tamamori’s shoulders and down his arms. Tamamori is panting by the time they have to break for air, Senga not much better off and that’s when Tamamori notices the bulge in Senga’s jeans. Tamamori’s pressing his palm against it and rubbing before he can think twice, eyes flicking up to meet Senga’s gaze when he lets out a moan and rocks up into Tamamori’s touch.

Carefully Tamamori repositions them both until Senga is on his back on the floor, where he hovers above Senga with his palms pressed into the floor on either side of his head. Senga’s legs are wrapped around his waist and Tamamori finds that it’s really easy to rock down against him, moaning at the pleasant jolt that seems to rock his entire body due to the movement. Senga makes this noise that Tamamori thinks he’d like to hear again, so he rocks against him again, only this time he moves a bit faster and harder.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Senga asks, his voice laced with breaths, and Tamamori feels his desperation more than hears his words.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Tamamori answers. “It feels good. Touch my wings some more.”

Senga’s hands immediately return to the wings, which flap in response to the contact, and Tamamori’s low groan vibrates throughout his own body as he stretches out on top of Senga, grinding down hard enough to make Senga forget his apprehensions. He can almost feel the worries leave Senga’s body, replaced with nothing but arousal as Senga pushes up and arches beneath him, helpfully lifting his lower half when Tamamori opens his jeans and shoves them down.

Senga’s noises are even better once his cock is in Tamamori’s hand, hard and heavy as Tamamori learns how Senga likes to be touched by trial and error. One of the hands on his wings disappear, but it reappears between his legs before he can miss it and Tamamori helps Senga unfasten his own pants and get Senga’s fingers around him faster. The pressure has him falling from Senga’s mouth, pressing his face into Senga’s neck where Senga’s cologne infiltrates his senses and all he can do is thrust his hips into the touch.

Tamamori’s pressing his lips against Senga’s throat, and then down to Senga’s collarbone as he moans into the skin. Senga flicks his wrist on the next upstroke and Tamamori can’t stop his full body shudder. He whines, high pitched and needy when Senga moves his free hand to touch his wings again.

Tamamori’s wings twitch the longer Senga’s hand runs across them, the pressure building up inside him like a slow burning flame. His moans are louder now, hips rocking just that much faster into Senga’s hand and Senga doesn’t stop touching him.

He jerks a bit the moment Senga’s hand tightens around his cock and slides up faster than it was before, but then his body reacts faster than his brain and in the next second he’s spilling over Senga’s fingers. Senga still hasn’t moved by the time Tamamori’s able to breathe properly again, vision clearing enough for him to look down at him.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Senga cuts him off, and Tamamori smiles through gasps for air, feeling much better about it now. “I wish I had wings that made me feel good like that.”

“I can make you feel good like that,” Tamamori finds himself saying, because it sounds good in his head and all he wants to do is touch Senga more, to get him off like he’d gotten Tamamori off, maybe using something other than his hand. “What do you like?”

“I…I don’t know,” Senga admits, sputtering a little when Tamamori flicks his wrist. “What you’re doing is fine.”

“Haven’t you been with girls?” Tamamori asks, seeing right through Senga’s modesty with each desperate snap of Senga’s hips up into his hand. “Even if you don’t like them, did you like being inside them?”

“I haven’t— ” Senga starts, choking on his words as Tamamori straddles his waist. “I haven’t done that with anyone. There was never anyone I wanted to be that intimate with…until now.”

Tamamori hears what he doesn’t say loud and clear, feeling a throbbing deep inside at the thought of Senga doing that to him. He must have done this before in his mortal life, because his body is screaming for it, wanting nothing more than to hop on Senga’s cock and go for a ride. Senga’s hands are on Tamamori’s hips, just light pressure from his fingers pressing into the skin while Tamamori tries to figure out what he needs to do.

“Can I ride you?” Tamamori asks, blinking cutely when Senga seems to stop breathing all at once.

Tamamori wonders vaguely if maybe he’d asked Senga for something he wasn’t entirely ready for, but then Senga’s pushing his hips and making him lift up a bit before he’s reaching into one of his pockets. Tamamori grins when Senga produces a small foil packet and bottle. It’s not that hard to figure out what these are and that only makes the throbbing he’d felt earlier that much worse, the need to have Senga inside of him that much more insistent.

“Um. You’re going to need to take your pants off the rest of the way or this won’t work very well,” Senga says, albeit a bit breathless from Tamamori’s weight on top.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, carefully sliding off of Senga’s lap long enough to pull his pants down the rest of the way and slide out of them completely. Tamamori watches as Senga struggles with his own jeans, hands shaking from either nervousness or excitement, Tamamori isn’t quite sure which but he decides to help Senga out anyway. Once their clothes are out of the way, Tamamori is back in Senga’s lap, knees on either side of his hips and pressed into the hardwood floor.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Tamamori finds himself asking. He’s not feeling shy about this, he just worries that Senga might feel pressured into doing this too soon and may regret his choices later. “With me, I mean.”

“I’m sure.” Senga replies, then he’s popping the cap on the bottle and Tamamori can only watch in mild awe as the clear liquid covers Senga’s fingers.

Tamamori has to press his palms against the floor and lift his hips the moment Senga presses in the first slick finger, his body jolting at the intrusion. It’s not painful by any means and Tamamori is already pushing back for more before Senga’s ready; Tamamori moans at the second finger, head falling forward a bit, this time there’s a slight burn but it feels good when Senga moves his fingers in and out slowly.

“Kento.” He gasps, while rocking down against Senga’s fingers. “ _Oh_.”

“Does it really feel good?” Senga asks, moving his fingers faster, stretching Tamamori properly, and Tamamori can see the curiosity in his eyes when he looks at him.

“Very good, more please,” Tamamori whispers, biting back a whimper when there’s a third finger pressed into him. It’s so much and not enough at the same time, his body shuddering when Senga pushes them all in and out at the same time, over and over until Tamamori thinks he’s about to explode with need.

“I lied before,” Senga whispers, and Tamamori’s panic sets in for a brief second until Senga goes on. “ _This_ is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I want you,” Tamamori gets out, reaching down to snatch the condom from Senga and hastily open it. He rolls it onto Senga’s cock and Senga moans, hips jerking up at the touch, and Tamamori involuntarily clenches at the thought of Senga doing that inside him.

It happens wordlessly, Senga’s fingers falling from him as he hovers over Senga’s lap, bracing himself as he holds Senga’s cock in one hand and lowers himself onto it. It’s so tight but Tamamori can take it, going slowly and breathing deeply as more and more of Senga enters him. Finally he feels Senga’s skin against his own and his eyes fly open, suddenly aware that he has the entire length inside him.

Senga’s face makes it worth every bit of discomfort, though; bright pink cheeks and barely open eyes lock on Tamamori, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he lifts his hands to Tamamori’s waist. “This feels amazing,” Senga says, squeezing the flesh enough for Tamamori to feel how much he’s holding back.

Tamamori gives a test rock back and forth, feeling Senga hit something inside him that has him moaning out loud and Senga tightening his grip. It’s right where Tamamori wants him and he doesn’t wait for anything else, just moves and feels it over and over, pleasure crawling through his veins with each undulation.

It feels even better when Senga starts to move with him, fingers digging into his skin as they move together. Tamamori tries to move faster, but Senga’s hands are so tight against his hips that he can’t do more than a slow roll. Senga seems content with that and just rocks up enough to rub against that spot deep inside that has Tamamori keening. Tamamori whines when Senga still doesn’t release his hold on him, preventing him from going that much harder; from taking Senga even deeper.

“Don’t rush,” Senga hisses.

“Feels good though,” Tamamori moans, dragging his fingers down Senga’s chest as he manages to rock just a bit faster. “Want more. Please.”

He shifts forward a little as Senga plants his feet on the floor, using the momentum to thrust up sharply. “Like this?”

Tamamori moans in response, which seems to be a good enough answer for Senga because he does it again, and again, sending Tamamori’s voice higher with each thrust. He bounces in time with Senga’s efforts and takes him in even deeper, harder, falling forward to hold onto Senga’s shoulders as Senga’s hands slide through the sweat of his back.

Fingers brush the very bottom of his wings and Tamamori shudders violently, pulling a cry from Senga at the way he clamps down around him. “Too soon?” Senga breathes, running a fingertip lightly along Tamamori’s feathers.

“No, no,” Tamamori rushes to reply, lifting his head enough to press his lips to Senga’s. “Keep doing it. I like it.”

Senga moans low in his throat, burying his hands in Tamamori’s wings as he thrusts up even harder now, breaths labored as he kisses Tamamori heatedly. Tamamori’s mind fades away, leaving nothing but feeling as Senga pounds up into him, arousal soaring through him in every direction. He reaches down and finds himself hard again, gasping at the first touch as Senga’s touch gets a little rougher, tugging on his feathers.

Tamamori wraps fingers around himself as he rocks down against Senga, and moaning when Senga pulls his feathers again. Tamamori starts to slow his hips as he strokes himself and he’s surprised when Senga’s the one who whines, his eyes widen when Senga’s the one to pull him down in order to thrust up into him harder. Tamamori tears his mouth away from Senga’s with a loud, drawn out moan, bouncing on Senga’s cock faster as the pressure starts its slow build up within him.

“Ah,” Senga groans, hips snapping up harder when Tamamori tightens even more around him. “I’m close.”

“ _Kento_ ,” Tamamori gasps. His eyes flutter shut when Senga’s fingers join his on his cock, squeezing him at the base. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Come for me, Yuuta.” Senga groans quietly, stroking Tamamori in time with his thrusts now. “I want to feel you when you fall apart for me.”

Tamamori couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, tossing his head back and crying out as orgasm surges through him, a feeling unlike any other with Senga hard inside him. He starts to slump forward, but Senga’s hands grip onto his hips to hold him still for three more thrusts, falling still with a long, drawn-out groan. They both fall to the ground, Tamamori landing right onto Senga’s chest, and he makes a face as he feels his come sticking to his own stomach.

“Are you going to disappear now?” Senga asks, his voice all breath, and Tamamori forces his eyes open to find Senga frowning at him.

“I didn’t just come here for that, you know,” Tamamori huffs as he struggles to lift himself up and off of Senga. His wings extend to stretch out and it makes him shiver. “There’s more to the job than just temporary happiness.”

“Good thing, or you really would be a prostitute,” Senga says, smiling a little. “Just without the compensation.”

Tamamori just groans, realizing the repercussions of his actions when he tries to move to reach for his clothes. “Does it always get sore like this?”

“That’s what I hear,” Senga answers, seeming to come back to life as he retrieves his own clothes and gets dressed with what looks like no fatigue at all. “I wouldn’t know, though I wouldn’t mind finding out.”

Tamamori lifts an eyebrow. “Not on the floor.”

Senga just laughs as he helps Tamamori look presentable again, though he can’t go anywhere near Tamamori’s wings without Tamamori shuddering and nearly losing his balance. “They’re starting to get color!”

“What, really?” Tamamori asks, trying to turn his head from side to side to look, but he can’t see well enough. “What color?”

“Blue,” Senga answers, peering at them closely. “Very light blue, but still blue.”

“I wonder if I should get them checked out,” he mutters, shivering as Senga touches them again. “I don’t really think they’re supposed to do that.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” Senga tells him, stroking some feathers for emphasis; Tamamori moans. “Look at it as a bonus.”

“Yeah, but what about when I go to my next assignment?” Tamamori frowns as the thought of leaving Senga, who’s looking at him with those soft eyes as he fixes Tamamori’s hair. “They can’t all be attractive young men like you.”

Senga’s hands pause their movement in Tamamori’s hair, but he’s still smiling. “You could always just stay with me.” His fingers are back to moving through Tamamori’s hair now, and Tamamori’s eyes flutter with each brush of Senga’s fingertips against his scalp. “If you want to, that is.”

Tamamori doesn’t really think about it; he already knows his answer, reaching up to pull Senga’s hands from his head and lace their fingers together. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Senga grins, bright and cheerful. “My very own guardian angel.”


End file.
